


30 Day OTP Challenge: Raikov/Volgin

by heylittlesister



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heylittlesister/pseuds/heylittlesister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a series of prompts on deviantart. Individual prompt responses will range from gen to something more adult. Most of them take place after Volgin and Raikov became lovers, although some of them will charter Raikov's early days in the Red Army. I just realised how much I missed Metal Gear Solid and decided to write a little something featuring everyone's favourite Cold War-era gay Russian couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Holding Hands

He looked up hurriedly at hearing footsteps outside his door. Of course, he would usually have ordered everyone to clear off the floor and leave him alone - only entering his office on pain of death - but there was really no need; he'd just been incessantly jumpy and paranoid recently. Colonel Volgin blamed it on the lack of sleep. 

Volgin sighed deeply and raised a hand to rub at the deep wounds crossing his skin. The gash on his cheek was perhaps the most galling; although they no longer hurt, the puckered skin could become unbearably irritable, although it only really plagued the Russian Colonel when he had been working for too long. And he had been working for a very long time. He'd given orders to his subordinates to stand guard as he'd heard various reports of American spies attempting to infiltrate Groznyj Grad. It was tough work being the mastermind behind the Iron Curtain, of course, but it didn't seem fair that he should have to do this almost all on his own because his insubordinates were incompetent. Except for perhaps his Vanya, who was always eager to obey orders, but then military work wasn't  _all_ Vanya was used for.

Speaking of Raikov, he glanced over to the figure beside him. The young Major was slumped over the desk, silvery-blond locks strewn across his face and his cheek rested on a pile of important paperwork from the Soviet military tribunal. His slim, long fingers were loosely interlinked with his own, as he'd gotten bored sitting around waiting for Volgin to finish and had taken his hand, begun stroking his palm, perhaps hoping to seduce him as he'd done with the various massages he gave when the Colonel was feeling stiff, but Ivan had been unable to stay awake and had soon fallen asleep on the desk. Volgin smiled fondly. That was typical of Ivan; but he couldn't deny finding the behaviour somewhat endearing. He was hardly ever able to relax and let go of the rigid structure of his day-to-day life, but somehow with Ivan he found it easy.

He'd called around to see if there were any duties Volgin wanted him for a little earlier. He'd even knocked at the door and greeted him with the familiar salute and the title 'Colonel', although such boundaries were barely respected by the two, particularly when Ivan gave him  _that_ devilish little smirk. Some of Raikov's rank may have imagined he only slept with the Colonel for the benefits of power and the ability to lay around eating, sleeping and exercising his sadistic behaviour, but they didn't see how eager his little pet could be. It was a shame, really. He'd previously had quite the appetite for this sort of devious behaviour, especially the quick bouts of relieving frustration snatched in Volgin's office, but all the work he had to do due to those damned Americans had really begun to take it out of him. As it was, he'd had to apologise. "Ivan! Is everything alright?" 

"Perfectly alright, Colonel." The young Major leaned in the doorframe and drawled, "I must admit, though, I missed your attentions." Raikov couldn't keep the slightly whining tone from his voice, but that was alright. The Colonel liked his need. He'd learned to exploit that over the years; the Colonel might think he was in charge, but really it was Raikov who had him wrapped around his little finger, and they both knew it. It felt good though, Raikov mused, having the most powerful man in the world willing to do  _anything_ to please him.

"I'm sorry, Vanya." Heavy, scarred fingers traced the other man's cheek apologetically and Ivan had nuzzled into them, kissing his fingertips eagerly. Volgin seemed amused. "I'm rather busy at the moment, due to our American ... _friends_. If it helps, I had been looking forward to... reintroducing you to my office." 

Ivan had pouted slightly, as he always did when the Colonel was busy, but he'd perched on the desk anyway, and gave Volgin a sympathetic smile. "It can wait. You seem tense, Colonel." Volgin vaguely recognised this as an example of Ivan's rather effeminate wiles, but it made him smile nonetheless. He was a talented rogue, his Vanya. "I'll stay."

Usually Volgin would have tried to dissuade him; ordered Ivan to go and take care of his men, but right now, he could use the company. He'd settled back down to reading paperwork when Ivan had leaned his head against his shoulder, yawned, and interlinked their fingers. _What a lightweight._ He felt as though he should protest at this display of intimacy when there were more urgent matters to see to, but he'd never been able to deny his pet anything for long.

Volgin pushed his paperwork aside and leaned back in his chair, wrapping his large fingers in their leather gloves around Ivan's again and giving them a quick squeeze, a small volt of electricity passing between them. The younger man pouted slightly in his sleep and slumped over. Volgin smiled appreciatively and leaned back in his chair. Perhaps he'd try to get a little sleep, too. And later, well.. they had all night to skive off their Soviet official duties.

Raikov was a bad influence on him.


	2. Day 2: On a Date

"I know you're probably busy right now, Colonel," his young lover was prattling on down the phone, barely pausing for breath and not allowing Volgin to interrupt. "But I'm not, and I don't have anything to do at the moment. I'll be in my office for the next two hours, I would expect. I asked this message to be passed down to you but I don't trust any of my.. subordinates." Raikov frowned, glancing over his shoulder, before straightening his cap atop his head. He heard Volgin sigh down the phone line, and although the Colonel was at the other end of the barracks, he just knew that Yevgeny would be massaging his scalp in mild irritation. 

"No, you're not," Volgin responded, with a note of authority in his voice, and laughed sardonically as he imagined Raikov's expression change to that of a somewhat confused frown. "You and I will be having dinner in my barracks at 11. I have a job for you, Major Raikov."

"For me?" Raikov sounded both surprised and coy in equal parts; he was good at this, if not much else, but at least he'd managed to hone his skill. "Are you sure this is a job for me, Colonel? I mean, I have so many men at my disposal, and I'm sure you wouldn't - want to put me in danger, would you?" His tone sounded petulant.

Volgin rolled his eyes, but he didn't mind playing along with Ivan's games - after all, Ivan played along with plenty of his, and life with the young blond Major was never short of entertaining. "You know that's not what I mean." His voice took on a softer, almost whispering tone that would have been terrifying to most people, but one that made the corners of Raikov's lips curl into a smirk. "I'm afraid it's rather your speciality."

"My - specialty?" Raikov tittered. "Oh, I see. You're going to work me hard, Colonel?"

"Excruciatingly," Volgin replied swiftly, with a somewhat lecherous smile playing on his lips. It seemed as if he was about to say something more, but then he turned his attention to the clock on the wall, and cursed loudly. "Damn it! Get back to work, Major - or at least start getting ready. I'll see you tonight."

Raikov smiled to himself as he hung up the phone, smoothing down his already-pristine uniform. Knowing Volgin, it would be quickly discarded, and quite possibly ripped; but Volgin's subordinates had grown used to having Raikov's uniforms refitted anyhow, and so he supposed it didn't matter. At first Raikov had considered the prospect of his little trysts with the Colonel an easy way of achieving his means; Colonel-level rank being among just one of his many presents in reward for spreading his legs for Volgin - how easy could life in the military be? But as time went on he'd found himself developing genuine attraction to this tall, broad, heavily scarred and truly sadistic man; not to mention realising just how fun sleeping with him was. If it wasn't for the amazing powers of electricity Volgin was able to harness and use in the most  _ingenious_ ways, he knew just how to use Raikov's lithe body. And better than that - although he'd never admit it - he'd grown quite fond of Volgin himself, too. Dear Yevgeny was really quite affectionate when he wanted to be, and his power and intelligence were certainly something to be admired.

His spine tingled to the marrow at the thought of spending a night alone with the Colonel for the first time in weeks. He and Volgin were hardly secretive about their private affiliations, and he had no real problem with the bigger man groping him in public and grabbing his genitals or his buttocks through layers of his clothing - he knew his subordinates resented him for it, but even they weren't stupid enough to make jokes at his expense with Volgin around. Despite this, it felt nice to be able to be alone, with no works duties messing things up, and he did like to be the centre of attention. For once, no Tatyana, no Sokolov, none of his men - just him and the Colonel, and Ivan felt as though he hadn't gotten laid in weeks.

* * *

It was a surprise when he entered Volgin's barracks at promptly 11 (well,  _almost,_ his nap had run over an extra five minutes, but he was planning on making up the time), and found the aforementioned man standing rather gruffly by a large wooden table, at which he'd prepared a simple dinner of vinegret and borscht, accompanied by copious amounts of wine and vodka. Raikov had to admit, he was surprised. He'd assumed the 'dinner' line was just an excuse, and that he and Volgin were really - but, true to his word, Volgin seemed to have arranged dinner for the two of them.

"Eh? We're really having dinner?" His face contorted into a confused frown.

"Yes, Major Raikov," the Colonel responded, somewhat gruffly. He'd pulled out a seat for Raikov, and now came to stand behind him, heavy, scarred arms encircling his waist. The Major smiled a little to himself. "I trust that is not a problem?"

The young Russian Major turned in the arms of his superior and faced the senior man's somewhat stoic expression with a coy little smile. "Of course not." Volgin coughed a little, excused himself, but helped Ivan into his seat all the same. Ivan noticed this about him sometimes; he had no problems being possessive, or dominant, but sometimes shied away from being held, even in a post-coital afterglow. Nonetheless, if Ivan wanted it enough, he usually got it; but for now he was happy to let it slide. Volgin had rolled up his sleeves and turned his face away, and was murmuring about "duty missions" and "wanting Ivan to stay back" and "needing someone to assist with the Shagohad."

"Of course not," Ivan responded, beginning to pile his plate with servings from the various dishes. "My subordinates will take care of that." He leaned back in his seat, casually, beginning to roll up the sleeves of his uniform and remove his black gloves. The Russian major's face was pale and somewhat feminine, and Volgin has always mainly considered Raikov to be pretty - it's partly why he took him "under his wing", so to speak, in the first place - after all, the Soviet military personnel saw very few women out here on Groznyj Grad, and he could imagine a young thing like Ivan being particularly popular in alleviating their loneliness. Rescuing Ivan from the ardent attentions of his fellow soldiers, and alerting him to his own, which came with privileges a Soviet Major could only dream of - he was doing him a favour, really. And it allowed him to notice a few traits in his Ivan that would have gone unnoticed otherwise. For one, Raikov had a certain cruelty about him at all times, which Volgin supposed he had to have developed, being so lithe and effeminate - especially in the military - would usually only do him harm. Yet Volgin couldn't help but notice, with a certain pride, that he was even  _more_ sadistic when the two were seen together; whether it was because he wanted to impress his superior, or because he genuinely enjoyed it; and Volgin enjoyed it too, seeing how the others hurried to    , and hearing the poor young man choke out "Yes, Sir, thank you, Sir," when one of Raikov's punches connected with his stomach.

As Ivan began to devour the meal (he ate like a horse, Volgin noticed, and was glad that he refrained from putting on any major weight; perhaps because of his military training, but probably, because of the amount of time he spent sleeping, just due to a quick metabolism), Volgin couldn't help thinking about the future, and where it would take his relationship with Ivan. It was fine, he expected, sleeping with a Major in his division of the army whilst they were here in the fortress, but what would happen if the weapon fell into the right hands, if the world became his as expected? Would he share it with his Vanya? Volgin moved to refill his and Ivan's glasses with vodka, if only to distract himself from the thought, and smiled at the way those wide blue eyes of Raikov's rolled back slightly in his head with delight from  the small bolt of electricity that passed between them when Volgin's gripped his rather more tightly than would be expected as he took his glass. Ivan pushed his now-empty plate aside and loosened his collar, gazed up at the Colonel, and Volgin counted his blessings when he thought of how his lover had a voracious appetite in more ways than one.

As it was, Raikov was beginning to unfasten more buttons than would be strictly necessary, and Volgin moved across the room with a speed that was appropriate to his nickname of 'the Thunderbolt' to help him with it. Raikov grinned. "Zhenya," he all but purred, "You've hardly touched your food."

"That doesn't matter," Volgin scoffed, as his hands found the belt of Raikov's jacket, Ivan's own hands straying to his trenchcoat to pull it off his heavy shoulders. "I'm sure I can think of something I'd rather have, Vanya." Part of Raikov wanted to laugh because Volgin's attempts at chat-up lines were so terrible; but they were awfully endearing, and to tell the truth, just the thought of Volgin's foreplay got him awfully hot.

"Colonel Volgin!" The door burst open and the Colonel broke apart from Ivan almost automatically; where they had previously been entangled, Ivan set about fixing his uniform, hurriedly fastening his belt and trying to pull his collar straight and cover any fresh red marks that may have adorned his neck. The young Major who stood in the doorway bowed his head in embarrassment. "Forgive me, Sir, for interrupting your meeting with Major Raikov-"

"Get on with it!" Volgin snapped, and the Major snapped to attention, baring his arm in a salute. "Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir - the Americans have infiltrated the base, Colonel. There have been reports of an American spy inside Grozynj Grad itself."

Volgin grabbed his trenchcoat from the back of the chair as he made his way to the door; Ivan made to follow, but Volgin waved him back. "Stay here," he growled, checking his gun was in his holster. "Sleep it off, Major, I don't care - but I want you in here when I get back, do you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Colonel," Raikov drawled, heading to Volgin's bed. "I'll be waiting."

"You'd better be," Volgin responded, but he shared a smile with Raikov that their military 'roleplay' always entailed. Volgin didn't care if it made him feel like a horny teenager; Date Night was going to end the way he'd planned, even if he had to face the entire American army.


End file.
